Lie Down With Dogs
by shakespeareia
Summary: While prosecuting a hopeless case, struggling attorney Marius Pontmercy finds himself emotionally embroiled in an attempt to bring an accused rapist to justice - and helplessly enamored of the victim, who reawakens horrors of the past he thought to have long since buried. Marius/Enjolras, Modern AU, Warnings - Rape/Non-Con, Abusive Relationships
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. - So, this was - quite obviously, I think - inspired by the SVU episode "Behave" - so any similarities are not coincidental. Just pointing that out now before someone blows the whistle on me. :p**

**Also, I've kinda crossed this over with Count of Monte Cristo (some of the characters are featured) so that ALSO isn't coincidental.**

**This is a modern AU, set in a large city. I'm not sure exactly where - you decide. :) Also, it's just a writing habit of mine that in all my modern Les Mis AU's, Enjolras looks like Aaron Tveit in real life - that is, he's got dark hair. Lastly, this story contains elements of an abusive relationship, non-consensual sexual behaviors, and bad BDSM etiquette. If any of these are triggers for you, you might want to consider skipping this story.**

**Otherwise, read on, and don't forget to drop me a review!**

"But were there any traces of cocaine in the bloodstream?!"

Combeferre made a sound suspiciously like a groan somewhere behind his hands, before dragging them up his forehead and through dark blond hair, making a mess of his once immaculate ponytail.

"I ran the blood work _twice_ – your guy was drunk, not high, and – "

His pager beeped suddenly, and he dashed off for the emergency terminal, flashing an apologetic look and leaving Marius in the hospital corridor with his mouth gaping and a steadily worsening migraine.

Boville chose the moment to duck out from behind the records desk.

"Don't tell me –"

"Nothing! Not a fucking thing!" the lawyer groaned loudly, flushing a bit at the reproachful glances from the triage nurses.

Boville sighed.

"Ok – ok, we rake Félicienne over the coals a bit longer –"

"It's too late now, they'll have trashed any more evidence, and Jondrette's already arraigned – Villefort's going to gut me like a fish, and if we don't find s –"

Rubber wheels screeched on tile.

"Make a hole-!"

Both men threw themselves against the triage desk as four people rounded the corner towing a metal stretcher, as Combeferre attempted to mollify the bloodied figure writhing against the restraining straps.

"Holy shit..." Boville muttered under his breath, and Marius silently agreed, wide-eyed.

Whoever he was, he couldn't have been very old – though it was hard to tell under all the red-brown crusting that coated most of his face, and combined with the constant screams ripping from his throat – Marius wondered for a moment if he'd taken a wrong turn, and stepped into a horror film.

Combeferre was relentless.

"Calm down, you're gonna be fine, okay?! – Fav, get me a sed! – It's okay, it's okay, just calm down -!"

The screams only grew in intensity, and underneath the webbing of blood, blue eyes took on something like feverish madness. Marius remembered something like it from a serial arsonist he'd put away for life.

"You don't get it!" the animal howled, twisting under the restraints in a frenzy. "_He'll kill me!_"

The breath caught in Marius' throat as couple of rubber-gloved paramedics pinned the man's bashed head to the plastic cushions, his screams dissolving to sobs and wordless begging as a needle slipped through the exposed skin of his neck, and he gradually went still.

* * *

"White male, probably early twenties – the paramedics said he was found in a dumpster three blocks away, wrapped up in a blanket and a couple of towels."

Marius frowned slightly. "Drunk?"

"Nope – no alcohol in his blood, although I could smell it all over his clothes. And before you ask, he's not homeless – there was no sign of wear on the clothing, his hair's trimmed, and his fingernails are clean."

"So – maybe he ducked in a bar, things got out of hand –"

"That's what he was trying to tell me, and..."

The blond physician bit his lip, and dug his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. Marius swallowed. "And?"

"And I've treated street fighters before – they're angry, not terrified, and you saw how he acted earlier..."

"But the blood –"

"Glass bottle to the head – I pulled about eight shards out of his scalp, we've got him on a blood bag now."

Marius winced.

"Jesus... sounds like brawl material to me –"

"Well it would be, if the glass weren't orange."

The frown deepened, and Combeferre flashed him a humorless smile.

"I room with a wine connoisseur, remember? Last I knew, Caravanseri Glow was the only booze on the market sold in orange bottles – it's high-end white wine made on some private vineyard in California. Not exactly what you'd find them pushing in some dump bar downtown, never mind smashing over someone's skull."

"Unless he's your husband." Boville shot out from the desk.

Marius bit his thumb a moment, before responding.

"Did he give a name?"

Combeferre sighed.

"Not yet, but I can keep you posted if–"

"No," Marius cut across, glancing towards the screened window to the exam room.

"No, I'll stay here."

Another, deeper sigh was his immediate answer.

"Make yourself comfortable then – he's still doped up on painkillers."

Nodding, Marius turned back to the desk, where Boville gave him a withering look.

"Come on, not again –"

"Laurent, it's – it just doesn't feel right –"

"Think about your job for a moment, Pontmercy, and reconsider what you just said."

He sighed.

"Alright, fine. I'll be back in tomorrow – keep them all hopping on the Jondrette case, we don't need him slipping loose again."

Boville rolled his eyes as he stuffed a few last papers into the file carrier.

"Javert's going to have your ass on a platter, I hope you realize that –"

"Javert has been obsessed for twenty-two years with a cold case," Marius cut across. "I think he can let me branch off for one night."

Shrugging, Boville reluctantly turned toward the elevator, and Marius sank into one of the waiting chairs, watching the human traffic sweep by. Nobody noticed him.

Bloodied, insisting of mortal peril... In some jurisdictions that would be more than enough to secure legal involvement, but with Javert, who knew? The man certainly knew how to run a police precinct, but when it came to crime-hunting... He'd been known to lock teenage shoplifters in the tombs, and in the next hour make deals with organized crime lords – often for information on a felon he'd let slip through his fingers decades ago.

Marius sighed dejectedly. Somehow it always came down to that same dogged obsession – he'd put forward motions more then once to have the captain declared mentally unfit for duty, and yet, every time...

The door to the exam room squeaked open suddenly, jolting him from his mental ramblings.

"Here."

A plastic bag dropped into his lap with a muffled 'thump' of fabric, moments before Combeferre latched the door shut.

"Well, John Doe is back in the land of the lucid – I'm keeping him for overnight observation though, just in case that head wound gets nasty. His clothes are all there." he muttered, nodding at the bag.

"Anything unusual?"

"Well, I'm no forensics expert, so don't take anything too seriously, but... the zipper on his jeans was almost snapped off, a few buttons on his shirt were done crooked, barefoot, no jacket, no i.d., and, uh... commando."

Marius was dead silent as his tongue traced the roof of his mouth.

"There were also no rips to the clothes, nothing to correspond to either the lacerations or the bruising."

"... Any guesses?"

The doctor wet his lips slowly.

"Either someone was in a hell of a hurry – or he's in bed with his girlfriend, they argue, she grabs the wine bottle – "

"-one thing leads to another, and when he blacks out she worries that he's dead and gets frightened –"

"- so she yanks his clothes on, just enough to get him decent, wraps him up in the bathroom towels, and tosses the body in the dumpster downstairs." Combeferre finished quickly. Marius raised his eyebrows.

"Hardly the perfect crime – I mean, if she wanted to deflect blame off herself, then the easiest thing would be to put the bottle next to him, and –"

"Save that for the professionals, Counselor – I'm just making sure you don't need to make a transfer from the trauma unit to the morgue." the blond cut in, ducking back into the room. "I'll let you know if anything comes up."

Marius sighed and rubbed some of the exhaustion from his sagging eyelids, as he popped the seal on the bag.

Nothing unusual, at first glance – pale blue button-down, jeans – designer label, though – and a few splotches of red around the collar. There was a thick scent of blood and garbage, along with something faintly like – _damn. Ohhhhh, damn._

"Hey Adrien?" he called out, glancing around uncomfortably at the corridor's other occupants.

Combeferre poked his head back out of the doorway.

"Um, did... did anyone think to do a rape kit?"

He frowned. "Why?!"

"Well – don't ask me how I know this – but his jeans reek of semen."

An uncomfortable swallow was the medic's only response for a moment, before his voice returned.

"Firstly Marius, whatever happened with you and Edmond is none of my business, and second, unless he drops this alley brawl story he's sticking to and claims there was a sex assault, I can't touch him with so much as a Q-tip."

"Then... then can't we pull implied consent –?"

"_Tell me_ I am not explaining the law to a district attorney."

Marius groaned.

"Fine. Just – can I talk to him?"

Blue eyes narrowed, and fixed him with a glare.

"Look, if you're just going to pull another one of your –"

"Adrien, listen to me – you and I both know that mugging claim is bull-shit. Now if I could just have a little time, and try to coax him into talking, then isn't that better for everyone involved?"

It took a minute, but eventually the blond bit his lip and nodded.

"On a couple of conditions – I'm going to watch you through that window. You start getting heavy-handed or pushy, and I'll yank you out of that room so fast you'll have to file a stolen goods claim to get your stomach back. And you're going to wait until tomorrow morning – he's still not as stable as I'd like."

Marius let his lips tighten, and shoved the bag against Combeferre's chest.

"Alright. Let me know when it's good for you."

"If I could, I'd let you –"

"I know, I know. Don't worry about me – I'll just count the freckles on my hands. Should kill a couple of hours."

**A.N. - Thoughts thus far?**


	2. Chapter 2

"Can I help you?"

The tone was accusatory, and not something Marius would immediately suspect from a bedridden– well, if his teeth were to be believed, a twenty-two year old. No one would have guessed, really. The bruises aged him.

"No, not- not really. I was here last night when they brought you in – just concerned."

He set one of the latte cups on the bed tray, taking a sip from his own. The quality was terrible – he had to press _something_ on the state of public dining – but it was all for appearances anyway. His brown eyes met swollen, blood-shot blue.

"Well I'm fine, ok? I'm fine. Now if you could just –"

"Are you certain about that? – I mean, you seemed pretty upset last night."

"Look, I'd been drinking, and I was talking out of my ass – can we just forget it, and let me get out of here?"

"That's an interesting thing to say – given that your tox scan turned up negative for any kind of substances. So why don't we talk about what happened – non-fiction version please, Mr. – What was your name?"

The glare he received would have been enough to send him stammering for the door only a few months ago – now, it only felt like his insides were twisting up.

"Are you a cop?"

"No, but –"

"Then why don't you fuck off?!"

He turned away immediately, face half-hidden in the pillows as an embarrassed flush crept up his neck and transformed the reddened bruises to swollen splotches of purple. For a time there was nothing but an awkward silence, which Marius eventually forced himself to break. Edmond always said he had a un-honed gift for that...

" I'm... sorry. I shouldn't be... listen, I'm not a cop, I'm not a shrink, I just... thought you might need to talk."

So much for un-honed gift... whatever that meant.

His listener responded with a minute smirk.

"Not creepy at all."

"Yeah... yeah, that was a pretty lame excuse..."

"Who are you?"

Marius tensed a bit.

"DA with the police force – I – I'm not –" he struggled, when the patient went rigid and the color drained from his face. "I'm not digging for anything, or trying to bait you for a lawsuit, I just –"

"You felt sorry for me, because I'm such a pretty little boy. Yeah, heard that one. Now leave me alone."

"I'm just trying – "

Voices rose outside in the hallway, and his eyes darted toward the doorway like a hunted animal.

"J-Just go away, alright?! Just –"

Suddenly the door swung open, Combeferre clutching the knob and rubbing his temples, as a handsome, blue-eyed man with greying brunette hair all-but smashed his way into the room and over to the bed.

The victim swallowed – hard – and Marius narrowed his eyes.

"Jourdain –"

"Holy Jesus – baby, look at you –"

"I'm fine-"

The rest of the sentence was swallowed by the sort of intense kiss that Marius had never seen, short of within a bad porno. Lips and tongues were everywhere – hard, possessive, and more than inappropriate for a public venue, regardless of the circumstances – never mind the fact that until half a minute ago, he had thought he was looking at a father and son...

The younger man was allowing one of his hands to ride the shoulder of the elder, a flush steadily building up in his cheekbones, blue eyes wide open, wet, and- Marius started slightly – fixed on his own.

His lover-apparent took no notice.

_Fuck. Fuckfuckuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..._

Hands trembling a little, he heaved himself out of the rock-hard chair and slid next to Combeferre by the door, the lawyer's shock reflected in his face.

"Distract him?" he whispered.

"You got it."

A curt nod, and the medic grasped the guest by one of his sizeable biceps.

" 'Need you take care of some preliminary paperwork sir, and then he's all yours – this way..."

Eventually the man complied, with some grumbling, and Marius dropped to his knees next to the bed.

"I've got to leave now – my boss is probably ready to lynch me for waiting overnight for you. Here- " his hand dove into his jacket pocket and yanked out a pale blue card. "Here's my contact info –if you need to talk..." he trailed off.

The other twisted at the collar of the hospital gown and bit at his split lip.

"Ok."

"Alright – bye then."

"Wait –"

He paused by the door – outside the window, he could see Combeferre arguing with the boyfriend over insurance forms.

"Hm?"

The smile was slight, and almost shy.

"Thanks for the coffee."

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

"You're telling me we don't have a scrap of substantial –"

"Every witness we put on that stand is going to be ripped apart by cross-examination, and as far as credibility is concerned, Villefort might as well be laughing in my face."

Javert seemed to be counting to ten in his head, and Marius allowed himself to begin breathing again – sometimes the man honestly terrified him.

"Start preparing opening arguments."

Marius felt his jaw unhinge.

"But – sir, we don't have a ca-"

"Then make one!" the captain growled, scratching irritably at his greying crew cut as he stalked out of the office.

The lawyer took a moment to brace himself against the desk, forcing his breath to slow down by sheer force of will – maybe Joly had a valid point, one day, with this job, asthma was simply going to kill him.

Boville was waiting outside the door, his eyes almost sympathetic at Marius' expression.

"That bad?"

All he could answer with was a helpless shrug.

"He's telling me to take it to a jury – we have no credible witnesses, all our evidence is circumstantial or hearsay – even if we manage to track down the last three kids, there's no way to guarantee that a judge will even let them on a stand, and even if they do the best chance I've got is to turn them into pathetic little urchins and melt the jurors' hearts –!"

"Calm down, calm down," the detective broke in, hands on Marius' shoulders. "First things first – someone's waiting for you in the squad room."

With a despondent groan, Marius glanced over to Boville's desk – brown-black eyes and a bright grin flashed back, her dark hair bouncing on her pale leather jacket as she scurried over like a little mouse...

Boville had the decency to look apologetic.

"Thought you might want to get the ugliest part over with quickly..."

Marius swallowed, hard, and brushed past him.

"Excuse me a moment..."

* * *

"You call _that_ a liquid dinner?!"

"Edmon-!" Marius protested despairingly as Courfeyrac swept away the remains of a Virgin Bellini, and planted himself on the neighboring stool, waving over the bartender.

"Two short trips to Hell. On me."

"_Edmond_-!"

"Come on, it's basically just a fruit drink with schnapps and Red Bull – you'll thank me later."

Marius dropped his head into his hands, stifling a moan for what had to be the sixtieth time that day. Courfeyrac sighed.

"I'm guessing she didn't take it too well..."

"Um, I essentially had to tell her that her parents are going to walk – again – meaning she and her sister get thrown back to the wolves, and meanwhile all three of her brothers are still out there somewhere, either starving or dead or locked up in some drug mogul's kiddie harem – so no, not really."

"Does she know you're gay yet?"

Marius rolled his eyes up to the tiled ceiling. Sometimes it was so hard to make Courf prioritize.

"No."

He sighed again.

"Look, unless you want her to kill you by the end of all this – I mean, she's crazy about you, and now that –"

"You honestly think I'm about to make her take another hit?!" he snapped, just as two glasses of urine colored liquid were set in front of them. "She's sixteen years old, her life has been hell warmed over, and now she expects me to be the knight in-"

"When's the last time you had sex?"

Marius almost spat the drink out, and not just because of the question.

"E-Edmond, wha- what the hell?!" he spluttered indignantly, ignoring the drops of fluid streaming down his chin.

"You're obviously strung out, tomorrow's going to be a rough day, and you need to take the edge off."

Face flaming, Marius stammered incoherently for half a minute.

"I – that is – is – completely – just – but – urgh, you know what, forget this!" he finally choked out, shoving the glass aside and grabbing his jacket. "I'm going home and I'm getting something real in my stomach-!"

"Food shouldn't be a substitute for sex!" Courfeyrac called after him as he shoved his way out of the door. More than a few people stared, and Marius was surreptitiously giving him the finger when his phone buzzed.

The heat was still blazing in his ears as he unlocked the screen, rubbing his temples.

"Pontmercy."

A crash came over the line, and he pulled the device away from his head, startled.

"Hello?!"

Another crash, meatier, more like a thud – something like breaking glass – and voices in the background, but they were impossible to really _hear_ – the ignition of the car wasn't helping much either...

"Hello?!"

"_Help me! –_"

There was another loud sound, like falling furniture, as Marius racked his brains for the voice – _Holy God... oh no oh no oh no..._

"It's me, it's me, I'm here - Wh-Where are you?!"

No answer – just a clatter, and scraping...

"_...like spam... – Get off!_"

Marius felt himself pale, nails digging into the leather of the steering wheel as the car screamed around a corner.

"Hello?! – Hello, are you still there?! –"

Later he would wonder what he'd been thinking, but in the insanity of the moment he could only let his panic tumble senselessly out of his mouth.

There was no answer, except a long, long stretch of sobbing moans, and a soft _slap slap slap slap slap..._

Then static, and silence, as he slammed to a halt in the precinct parking lot, shaking and a tear frozen on his eyelashes, as he stared at the phone screen.

_Call Ended._


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. - Hello everyone! Sorry about the atrociously long wait - I've been distracted by some unfortunately necessary medical work, as well as college, and I've only just been able to get back into writing in the past few weeks. **

**Enjoy, and please remember to leave a review! :)**

Sunlight was pouring over the street by the time Marius finally fought his way out of the courthouse, as if deliberately mocking him for the hellish five hours of his life wasted on a stifling case. Without a thought to his surroundings, he dropped onto the nearest empty bench – the stone sending an unpleasant jolt up his spine – and groaned loudly, face buried in his hands...

"Rough day?" someone asked.

He groaned again. "That puts it mildly."

For a moment, the only reply was a non-committal "Mm..." before he glanced up and his eyes widened. Traffic roared behind them.

"I- You-!"

"Look, about last night-" the other cut in. His voice was thick, almost raw, and yellow bruises peered over the collar of his olive green puffer.

"- I – I should never have – I mean, you saw how Jourdain was at the hospital, he gets... grabby, and... well, sometimes he just loses control, it's not... I mean... I-I overreacted, ok? So-"

"Look, I don't want an apology," Marius interrupted gently, "It's not..."

Damn it, damn it, he was a _lawyer_, for Christ-sakes, not a romance counselor...

"Listen, would you be overly offended if I asked you wh- what your relationship is like?"

The stranger bit his lip, blood blossoming under the skin, and shoved his hands – long and delicate, although Marius wouldn't dare consider why he noticed – into the pockets of his coat.

"... Took some getting used to."

"How much?"

" - I didn't realize I was on the stand here!" he snapped suddenly, clambouring to his feet – his stride was awkward, almost limping.

"No, wait –" Marius called, cursing himself silently, and catching him by the sleeve – the jacket collar slipped down, exposing a fuller ring of bruises around his pale neck.

" – Holy... Look, I – I'm sorry, but...

"I came here to apologize, and all you do is-! "

"Listen to me, I can help you, but –"

"You don't know a fucking thing –!"

"How many times is he going to 'lose control' before you –!"

"I'll yell if you don't let go of me!" he finally shouted, attracting the attention of several bystanders, and Marius was forced to relinquish his hold, leaning in close.

"He grabbed you by the throat this time, didn't he?" he half-whispered, something ripping inside him as he watched the other's face crumble. "And every time it's getting worse and worse, and deep down you know that-"

"Stop it!" he screamed, shoving at him violently – Marius lost his footing and tumbled backwards, white lights bursting behind his eyes as the back of his skull met concrete...

* * *

"You lucked out," Joly muttered, the tips of his latex gloves stained pink as he prodded at the swollen knob beneath dark hair. "There's no sign of any skull fractures, annnnnd – eyes up..."

Marius tried to keep a hold on his patience, as the ME flashed a penlight back and forth, nearly blinding him.

"To the right... left... back to me... pupils aren't blown, no indication of a concussion – suppose you might not be as fragile as we thought."

"Very funny – where is he?"

"Interrogation room 2," Boville replied from the corner, as Joly exited the office, delicately holding his bloodied hands out in front of him like dead animals. "Jacques' been 'interviewing' him for the past half-hour –"

"Wha – Oh my God!" the brunette cried, rubbing at his sore scalp as he vaulted out of the chair and through the doorway, ignoring the calls echoing after him.

* * *

Marius heard the crash of metal on tile before he even turned the knob, shoving the door open to find one of the steel chairs smashed against the floor, and a stocky, balding figure hissing into the detainee's ear as he cowered in the corner -

"_Peuchard!_"

The officer spun around, an ugly sneer still fixed on his liver-spotted face –

"Oh, Counselor – just finishing up, seems like trick-ass here doesn't want to write a state-"

"Jacques, I am in a perfect position to report you to 1PP for misconduct, and believe me, that will not be a hardship – get back upstairs, start packing your desk, and have a nice suspension."

Everyone in the room seemed stunned for a fraction of a second, including Marius, before Peuchard finally shoved his way out the door with a nasty look and Marius turned his attention to the young man crumpled by the barred window. A pale hand covered his mouth, he was shaking slightly, and his blue eyes glistened...

"I'm... sorry, about that." Marius began, unsteadily. "Everyone in the precinct calls him 'The Animal.'"

There was no reply – he simply burrowed deeper into the coat he still wore, even indoors, and swallowed hard. His own throat tightening, Marius wet his lips as he knelt down slowly, and forced himself to speak.

"What's your name?"

For a long time there was silence, until –

"J- Julian. Enjolras."

The lawyer breathed out in relief.

"Ok – Listen, I-I'm _trying _to help you, but- "

"You've got a pretty damn interesting way of showing it!" he snapped, running one hand through his hair... The color of milk chocolate...

Marius bit at the inside of his mouth, blushing, and forced the words out of his throat.

"Pushing me onto the sidewalk was your decision, not mine, but – but if we can make something wor-"

"Oh, yeah," he groaned, blue eyes flashing. "Here's where we're supposed to work through it together, find the answers – well let me tell you something - I screwed up, I fucked myself over, and now I'm paying for it! So I'd appreciate it if you'd stop trying to be my shrink and get the hell out of my life, _sir!_"

The tone would have been furious, had his voice not cracked into a sob on the last word.

Face reddening, he dropped his head into his arms, and his shoulders shook.

Marius sat by him for a time, silent, gooseflesh rising on his skin from the frigid air...

"I... I think get it." Marius whispered, finally, hands clutching the knees of his trousers. Enjolras shot him a poisonous look.

"No, really... He keeps telling you that it's normal, doesn't he? - That it's your fault, or that it's not, and he loves you so much, he loves you too much – and you keep trying to believe him, because then it means that you're the one with the problem, and you can fix yourself, make yourself used to it, but..." he stopped, his voice thickening as he tried to hold back tears–

Enjolras was looking at him when he glanced up, his jaw tight and his eyes wet...

"C – Can I show you something?"

With a shaking breath, Marius nodded and straightened his back, as the other man unzipped his coat and let it slip down his arms, before opening up the first six buttons of his shirt – Marius inhaled sharply.

Ten yellow, finger-shaped bruises marred the tight white skin of his throat, all about the sides and beneath the Adam's apple...

Slowly, as if approaching a skittish colt, he stretched a hand out and touched his shoulder.

"Last night...?"

Enjolras said nothing, yet his face gave him away.

"H-have you showered since then?"

"No."

He sighed steadily, and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Ok... Ok, I'm going to get you out of here – We're going back to the hospital, and I'm asking Adrien to collect some samples, ok? "

Enjolras turned to him slowly, biting at his lip –

"... St-Stay with me?"

Marius swallowed the knot in his throat, and nodded.

**A.N. - Thoughts? **


End file.
